Innocence is Bliss
by Dphantom
Summary: Sparrow is about as innocent as they come, and ex-pirate king, Reaver knows this, and when he returns, he leaves Bloodstone to visit her. Little do they know that danger and mistakes lie ahead of them. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_ A cold winter wind woke Rose up. She pulled the burlap blanket closer to her and little Sparrow and forced a shiver away. She was the big sister, the one who knew everything and somehow managed to provide food. Rose turned slowly and looked at her little sister. Her dirty brown hair fell over her small, vulnerable face and her fingers peeked out of her finger-less gloves. She was so young and innocent, the type of person that was going extinct in the grimy city of Bowerstone._

_ Rose, careful to not wake her sister, got out of the cot (if that's what you would call it) and stretched her tired limbs. She tucked the blanket around her sister then walked down the stairs of their home. It had a roof, and the "walls" provided some shelter from the elements. It was the only thing that they could find, after the family of traders that they normally stayed with every winter didn't show up this year. She knew she shouldn't count on them being here every winter, but it had felt nice not having to plan out how to get their food for the day, or trying not to freeze to death._

_ Rose picked up two rocks that she set down by the sagging wooden stairs. She then started to pick up burnable paper and trash that littered the alley way. Taking the arm load of trash, she dumped it into the dark, metal brazier. Rose reached into her dress pocket and pulled out the two rocks. She held them above the trash, hitting them together to create a spark which would in turn create fire and warmth. The sparks made a flame, but it was small and Rose had to protect it from the harsh wind. _

_ Once the flame was big enough not to be blown out by the pesky flurry of wind and snow, Rose hurried back to their home to wake Sparrow. She had planned out a whole day for them to explore Bowerstone Market. Sparrow hadn't been to the market part of Bowerstone, and Rose knew she would be eager to visit it, seeing the stall vendors shout out prices, and dipping their feet into the water that ran under the bridge. It would be the perfect day, maybe if they begged just right, or pick pocketed the ignorant, they could buy something from the food stalls. _

"_Sparrow, wake up you sleepy head. Come on, we have a big day ahead of us." Rose shook her sister gently and Sparrow opened her eyes._

She sat up in her warm, comfortable bed, not the few pieces of cloth that she used to call a resting place. Rose's voice echoed in Sparrows head, her sweet voice that sounded like laughter. Sparrow always had these sort of dreams. Watching Rose go about her life before it ended shortly, sometimes seeing herself, but never in control. Sparrow dreamed in past memories or, like just now, memories she had never witnessed.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she ran a hand through her shoulder length, white hair. Sparrow shrugged off the dream as best she could. She left that life behind when Lucien killed her sister, left it behind so she could move forward without the weight of sadness. Birds chirped happily outside in the golden rays of the rising sun, signaling that morning was chasing the night away. Sparrow smiled and opened the window, allowing the gleeful songs to brighten her mood and the fresh sea breeze to awaken her. She rested her elbows the window seal, holding her head in her hands.

Humming one of the birds melodies, Sparrow descended down the stairs of her Oakfield home. She had bought the two story house after defeating Lord Lucien in the Spire, the same Spire that she could see from the docks next to her house. Sparrow swallowed a lump in her throat when she remembered the choice she had made, the choice that whitened her hair and prettied her features. The choice that left her faithful companion and her sister dead.

She forced the memory out of her mind and fought away her tears. That had been a year ago, and a lot can happen in a year. Like being stronger than she would like to let on, telling everyone that asked her where her dog was, and that it was okay that her sister had died, leading them to believe she was strong minded.

Sparrow opened the door of her house, letting the sun soak into her pale skin. Oakfield had an almost fairy-tale look and feel to it. The vibrant greens of the trees reached up for the deep blue sky and the vivid blue flowers she planted near her house screamed for attention. Children's laughter, the rumbling of the mill, and the soft crashing of the oceans waves against the shore provided a calming background noise, while the talking and clanking of the glasses from the local bar seemed to promise a good time for anyone who entered. Sparrow smiled at all who passed and, all the locals being the kind hearted and kindred spirits that they were, waved back.

She entered the pub and ordered a glass of well spring water from the bartender. He had long ago stopped asking if she wanted alcohol after finding out she had never drunk a drop of the stuff in her life. Sparrow was content in leaving the stuff be, and no one seemed to care that she wasn't among the drunks that stumbled out of the bar, throwing up in the most random places. The bartender passed her the glass full of water and shot her a grim smile.

"Have you heard the news yet Sparrow?" the bartender asked cautiously.

Sparrow looked at him in slight confusion. In Oakfield news traveled a bit slowly. No one in Oakfield gossiped, not like in Bowerstone, or in Bloodstone, a place Sparrow never liked. Bloodstone, place of violence, prostitutes, and as the name suggested, blood. It was a lawless town, where one could kill any one person and not have to worry about guards dragging you to the dungeons. It wasn't the fact that guards didn't patrol the streets, it was the fact that living a life there would be a life full of fear. If a drunk got out of control, and started killing people, he would either be shot be a bystander, or allowed to live and the citizens would make it a game to not be shot by him. It was a place that many, including Sparrow, avoided.

"What news?" she asked.

She knew that if it was bad news, like hobbes attacking a farm, she would run to the rescue of the victims. That was how she was, saving anyone in trouble, the true hero.

"Apparently, a man named Reaver has arrived in Bloodstone. I don't know the man but I heard he come back for some plan he has. That's all I know, not many people from Bloodstone leave Bloodstone." the bartender went back to wiping down the bar, secretly, although not so secretly that Sparrow didn't notice, watching for her reaction.

Sparrow smiled at the memory of Reaver. The deviant was well know for being the Hero of Skill, and for being ruthless, but that wasn't all he was know for. He threw parties all the time, or used to before he left for Samarkand a year ago. Sparrow didn't know what he did there, but she knew it was something... well Reaverish. When they had both met, he was annoyed at her innocence, her constant optimism, and the fact that she was nice and selfless. He was the complete opposite of her, and no matter how much of the flirting, or the naughty jokes he threw at her, Sparrow remained oblivious, not knowing his true intentions.

Reaver stepped off his ship with the air of one who is anything but happy to be home. Sure, he liked the town of Bloodstone, the town that he ruled over. He knew that no one was living in his mansion, making him disappointed that he wouldn't be able to throw open the doors of his former home and shoot the person inhabiting it. The truth was, he came back because he hadn't enjoyed Samarkand as much as he thought he would. The people weren't the "untamed natives" he had painted them out to be in his mind, and it was all to tropical for his liking. Garth had left him alone, not that he complained about the dark skinned man leaving, the minute the ship had docked. Reaver found himself at his old mansion, and he smirked when he remembered the last time he was here.

The young, ignorant hero, what was her name? Sparrow? She had been asking for his help, and he had said something about how he could help her in bed. She looked confused and said,"But I sleep just fine." Oh how he laughed at that. Poor, innocent girl. How she got around in this world was a miracle. Maybe after he had some lady company, he would go visit her. Visit as in try to kill.

Sparrow walked out of the bar with a smile on her face. The men inside had always been friendly, complimenting her all the time. One even asked to see the inside of her bedroom, saying he thought it would look nice. He was very nice, but she politely declined, since she was just on her way to go on a quest. She had promised that he could see it when she got back, but she had no clue why he would want to see her bedroom. It probably looked just like his.

The door to her house was slightly ajar, and Sparrow frowned, trying to remember if she had closed the door or not. She opened the door the rest of the way and closed it behind her. Her eyes scanned the room, but she didn't see anyone standing around. Sparrow shrugged and started humming to herself as she tidied up the place. Her house wasn't messing, yet it gave her something to do before she left for Bowerstone to make use of the sales there. Her humming turned to soft singing, and she packed most of her gold into her bag. The steel ax strapped to her back and clockwork pistol at her hip she headed up stairs to get a few of the books she was wanting to read on the journey to Bowerstone.

Sparrows eyes were on the floor as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, but she looked up when she heard a soft chuckle. She looked up, almost to the top of the stairs, and saw Reaver sitting with his legs crossed and his Dragonstomper .48 out and aimed at her.

"Hello my little minx. It's been a long time."

**Please review! I'm going to start typing the next chapter but if reviews suggest otherwise, I**

'**ll just rewrite this one please don't tell me I suck at writing or any of that crap I just want reviews to help me out on what needs to be better or good reviews.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it took me so long to update! (darn you Skyrim!) and I'm sorry it's so short ~ I realized how long it's been since I first publish so I decided to put this up so I can work on a bigger chapter. Please review and enjoy!**

Sparrow froze as she sized up the situation. If she tried to run down the stairs, Reaver would just shoot her in the back, and if she reached for her gun, he would shoot her, heck if she did anything he would probably just shoot her. Sparrow pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips.

"What do you want, Reaver?"

Reaver put a hand over his heart and pretended to look hurt.

"Why my dear, I think you should be a watch your tone seeing as I'm the one holding the gun." Reaver smiled, and just to prove his point, waved his gun in the air.

Sparrow did her best not to sigh. She wasn't feeling her usual cheerful self, and right now she didn't want to deal with Reaver.

"Master Reaver, I would be ever so happy if you would inform me of your intentions and to possibly tell me why you are residing in my residence." Sparrow said with a deep curtsy and a sarcastic tone to match it.

She did her best not to laugh at the fleeting look of surprise on Reaver's face. Sparrow wasn't known for her understanding of sarcasm, or for being mean. The only time she was nasty was in battle, a time which a darker side of her came out. It wasn't like she didn't have control when she became this "demon", she just had a different personality, and it was starting to come out.

"Do be careful, little Sparrow. Don't want to get too carried away." Reaver chuckled darkly.

"Oh shut it, _Reaver_. I hope you didn't just to come to laugh at me, it would be a shame for the guards to see your bloody body right outside on my doorstep, and I wouldn't want to waste any of my money on _your_ murder." Sparrow glared at the smiling deviant.

He laughed again as she stormed down the stairs. Sparrow rolled her eyes as she stomped angrily around her house. Reaver trailed her around like an annoying puppy, adding frustrating comments to everything she did. Sparrow clenched her fists as anger rose inside her like a wave. She had never been this angry at Reaver, and she didn't know why she was so mad now, all she knew was that if Reaver didn't back off, he would get a face full of knuckles.

"Look, I'm going to travel to Bowerstone, today. You can come if you want, although I'd prefer it if you didn't. No we are not going to go to Bloodstone to get your _lady friend_, and no I won't be your _lady friend_." Sparrow shook her head and headed out the door with her pack over her shoulder.

For just a second, she thought Reaver would get bored of pissing her off, and he would return to Bloodstone. She hoped that he would just shrug and then leave her be, but of course _that_ would never happen. Reaver strode up behind her, a big wolfish grin on his face. Sparrow let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through her white hair. She felt the dark side of her slipping away and was left tired. She certainly didn't want to travel for days feeling like this, and defiantly not with Reaver in tow.

She ignored all the dirty jokes and suggestions from said man as they passed the inn. How in Albion's name was she going to put up with him?


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews! I'm so happy you guys like my story ^^ ahhh excitement! I'll try to get chapters up sooner and fun stuff like that.**

Two and a half days. That's how long it would take them both to reach Bowerstone market at the pace they were traveling at. Normally it would take Sparrow a little over a day to reach Bowerstone from Oakfield, but Reaver insisted that they "walk slowly and enjoy the scenery, why the rush?" Since they had left Oakfield, Sparrow had simmered down and found that Reaver was a lot less annoying when she was in a good mood.

"Tired my dear? We can stop any time; I always found a nice bottle of wine refreshing." Reaver raised an eyebrow at her.

"No thank you." Sparrow smiled politely back at him.

Reaver rolled his eyes in annoyance and pulled out one of many alcoholic drinks he had bought when passing the Sandgoose on their way out of Oakfield. He pulled the cork off the top of the bottle and took a long swig from the round green jar. Once again, he offered her the wine, and once again Sparrow smiled but shook her head.

"For such a pretty face, you're very uninteresting." Reaver grumbled.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you; I just see no point in drinking tell you're incoherent, then getting yourself or others hurt. Besides, I see the faces people in bars make when they're drinking the stuff, it seems nasty." Sparrow answered quietly.

Shaking his head, Reaver downed the rest of the bottle and tossed it over his shoulder. Sparrow glanced at him, and then turned around to retrieve the broken pieces. He let out a disgusted noise as he watched Sparrow carefully pick up all the bits of glass. Once she had all the pieces in her hand, Sparrow placed them in an empty pocket of her pack.

"Why do you have to be so… so nice? It's sickening." Reaver asked.

"Why do you have to be so cruel?" she countered back in the small voice of hers.

He laughed and began on another bottle of ale. She just shrugged and looked up to the darkening sky. Stars blinked into view and the full moon began to climb closer to the heavens.

"We should set up camp." Sparrow said simply and turned to a wavering Reaver.

"I think that would be fine, little minx." Reaver slurred and wiggled an eyebrow at her.

Sparrow smiled faintly and headed off the road, towards a clearing in the woods, Reaver stumbling after her. As she piled wood for a fire, he started _yet again_ on another drink. Before he could finish his gulp, Sparrow snatched it away from him. He began to protest, until she chucked it as hard as she could into the darkness. She looked at him and got a scowl in return. Sparrow smiled and said that she was doing him a favor, as she took away his bag that was heavy with all sorts of alcohol. Reaver smiled an evil sort of smile and said, "I know a favor you could do for me."

Sparrow cocked her head to the side and gave him a questioning look.

"Come over here first, darling. I can't reach you from all the way over there."

Uneasily, she moved towards him, wondering why he was looking so devious. When she was no more than a few steps away, Reaver leapt at her, his hands going for her shirt. Sparrow yelped in surprise, but was quickly cut off when Reaver smashed his lips against hers. They both tumbled to the ground. Freaked out and unsure of what was going on, Sparrow tucked her legs under his belly and shoved with all her might. Reaver fell backwards with a grunt and Sparrow scrambled to her feet. He rolled over and got up slowly, watching her all the while.

"What was that all about?" Sparrow eyed Reaver with new found curiosity.

"You can't be serious. Are you really _that_ naive?" Reaver managed to get out without sounding drunk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sparrow said, slightly defensive.

Reaver chuckled darkly and moved toward her. Sparrow backed up, not knowing what to expect from him.

"Why don't we play a game? I promise it's a fun game, you'll _love_ it." Reaver said, almost like he was talking to a child.

Sparrow grew more and more uneasy. She was alone, in Rookridge, with a drunken man who could shoot a perfect shot even when he had countless bottles of wine. Frankly she didn't know what to do. Reaver, noticing she wasn't paying as close attention as she should, lunged at her. Sparrow jumped back and bolted into the woods, Reaver's laugh echoing eerily behind her. The trees overhead groaned in protest as a cold wind blew and added to Sparrow's nerves. Running through the woods in the middle of the night was not one of her best ideas.

_Maybe I'm overreacting _Sparrow thought as she slowed down. _I should get back; he's probably already passed out_. She felt stupid that she ran. She could easily defend herself and she would be safer back at the camp than out wondering the bandit infested woods.

She turned and began to pick her way over broken branches she had left in her frantic escape, and her path didn't go unnoticed. She looked up sharply when she heard an unfamiliar laugh ring out and bounce around in the silent woods. Sparrow reached up and gripped the handle of her axe, relaxing slightly at the feel of the handle that had molded itself to the shape of her hand over the many uses.

"Who's there?" she called out confidently.

All that answered her was a wall of stillness, which she broke by unsheathing her master ax.

_Snap_

Sparrow whirled around and slashed her axe through the neck of a startled bandit. His head fell off to the side and his body crumpled to the ground, blood spewing out from his neck. Silence fell and she smiled, knowing what was coming next. A roar cut through the air and men came pouring out from behind trees. Grinning like a crazed maniac, Sparrow dived into the middle of the ambush, slashing and hacking with all her might at any who dared stray to close.

Blood flew into her face and covered her clothes and hair. The ground turned red as she slaughtered the bandits, who had thought they had happened across a lost adventurer. In one smooth motion, she slid her axe into its sheath on her back and whipped out her pistol. She ducked and shot, all the while laughing at the dark fate that awaited each and every man there, yet having no idea that she was being watched.

Reaver leaned against a thick tree truck and watched the battle with a smirk. The poor outlaws were outmatched, the odds stacked against them. He found it highly amusing that they were still fighting, as if they had a chance to win, then again in his drunken state he found anything amusing. Reaver giggled as he tripped and fumbled his way back to the campsite. He collapsed on Sparrow's bedroll, and was passed out before he had time to get comfortable.

Sparrow pulled her axe out from the last bandits head and kicked the body to the ground. She shook her head like a dog, causing blood to fly in all directions. Ringing out her shirt, she looked for the path back to the campsite. Once she spotted it, she sheathed her axe and picked her way over the bloody bodies. Sparrow put her hands in her pockets and started whistling happily, but stopped when saw Reaver. Of course he was on her bedroll.

Sparrow kicked him off and couldn't help but smile as she did. _Damn pervert_ she thought. Reaver stayed dead to the world despite the numerous kicks he received in the ribs. Sparrow slipped under the covers of her now warm bed. The stars shone brightly in the black sky, and the moon seemed so swollen, Sparrow wondered if it would pop. She sighed at her stupidity and nodded off to sleep, all the while listening to the soft whisper of the wind in the trees and the obnoxious snores of an unconscious, drunk man.


	4. Chapter 4

Sparrow awoke colder than she had ever felt. She sat up and realized she was completely naked. _Then_ she realized that Reaver had not only stripped her naked and stolen her bedroll, he had taking everything in camp. Weapons, food, her pack, all had disappeared with Reaver. She shook her head trying to figure out how he had gotten her out of her bed without her waking. _He's probably an expert at kicking out unwanted guests in the morning_ she though sourly.

She stood up, barely managing to suppress white hot rage that boiled inside her. The damn deviant even took her shoes! Sparrow carefully picked her way down the broken path she had made in her haste last night, cursing Reaver all the way. Why in Albion's name would he just take off? He probably had it planned out the whole thing out.

The small clearing stunk of death when Sparrow finally made her way down the path. Her feet were bleeding everywhere by the time she reached the first bandit. She tugged off his clothes, along with his shoes, and pulled the shirt over her head. The bloody clothes did nothing to help her figure, but she could care less about her body when the only thing on her mind was murder.

"You filthy son of a bitch!" she screamed to the cloudy sky.

As if angered by her sudden outburst, the dark sky opened the flood gates and rain poured relentlessly down on the fuming Sparrow. Fury churned deep inside her. She trusted him. She was the stupidest women on the face of the planet, and he would pay for making her realize that. Reaver had taken her dignity when had stripped her naked, not to mention that he probably sneaked in a grope or two.

Sparrow didn't use will power that often, at least not after she had killed Lucien, but her finger tips tingled as she called on her force push spell and knocked a tree down. She snatched a rusty cutlass from one of the bandits and stormed back to the road. After she gathered her senses, she headed in the direction of Bowerstone. If she picked up her pace, she might catch him before he entered the city and she would have his head in hand when she was shopping in the market.

Reaver walked cheerfully toward the high gates of Bowerstone, smiling when he heard Sparrow's hard earned gold pieces jingling loudly in his new, bone white coat. Aside from the coat, he had only used her coins for a black top hat, which he noticed were beginning to come into style. Unfortunately, he had no idea that a very revenge filled Sparrow was crouching behind the bushes that lined part of the road. Which made it all the better for her when she sprang out and stabbed him in the chest with the rust covered sword.

**Once again I'm sorry for the delay and the shortness of the story. I'm in a sort of dry spell when it comes to creativity . so I naturally had to make you guys suffer by putting a cliff hanger on the end of this 485 word chapter. Hope you like it and reviews are always appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alrighty, here we go. I have a new co-writer, TheRedDragonEnforcer4, and we're going to start posting every week (every other week at the latest). Got some big plans in store for the future, it's going to be a bumpy ride so strap on your big people panties. **

Reaver shook his head, feeling silly for his over imaginative mind. Nervousness was a feeling Reaver had never encountered, but lately he had been a tad bit jumpy. It annoyed him beyond belief. _A hero of skill reduced to peeping around corners and jumping whenever he comes near a bush! A bush! _Reaver scowled bitterly. He could shoot a leaf off of a tree from a mile away, why was he worried about such a childlike girl? Maybe it was her ability to turn into a bloodthirsty monster at the drop of a hat.

He shook all his worried off as he neared the gate to Bowerstone Market. Sparrow may be the fourth hero but he was the hero of skill. Reaver could shoot her before she could even draw her gun. Besides, he left her with no clothes, no weapons, and no dignity for that matter. All he had to worry about was, well nothing now that he thought of it.

Reaver eyed a fair skinned noble in a low cut blouse as he walked into the market. She would certainly be a nice girl in bed; easy on the eyes, full lips, and, most importantly, a large chest. He grinned wolfishly as he approached her, making sure to be heavy on the charm.

Sparrow leaned back against a tree with a sigh. She shifted a few times till the bark of the giant oak no longer bit into her back. Deep in thought, she pulled out a green apple, which she promptly sank her teeth into. Sparrow sat in the woods near Bower Lake. It was midday, sunny, and cool air blew off the lake in a steady breeze. Birds sang different melodies above her head. It was bliss.

By the time Sparrow had made her way to Bower Lake she had calmed down significantly. Instead of using brute force to get her things back, she would logic, her most valuable asset. So far she hadn't planned exactly how she would do this. She was thinking of finding Reaver after she collected rent from a few houses she owned. At least then she would have some coin in her pocket.

A cough from in front of her brought Sparrow back to reality. She looked up sharply only to find a traveling merchant standing in front of her. Sparrow smiled warmly as the trader scratched the back of her head nervously.

"Ms. Sparrow… I uh saw your beat up clothes-" Sparrow looked down at her bandit garb "-and I… um well I thought you might want a free exchange of some nicer looking attire."

Sparrow thanked the kind traveler as she smoothed out her new clothes. She had told Sparrow that the outfit was popular with adventurers, though Sparrow was just glad to be out of the torn up rags she had worn before. Being well loved throughout Albion did have its advantages. The merchant headed toward the gypsy camp and Sparrow walked to the gates of Bowerstone. The guard on duty nodded briefly at her before returning his attention to the baron road behind her.

The Bowerstone Market was busier than usual when Sparrow entered the city. Nobles pranced about with distain for those beneath them and a handful of beggars desperately tried to earn coin from the wealthy. Sparrow had to send hundreds of apologies as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. _Why are there so many people?_ She thought when she reached the first of the three houses she owned.

Sparrow finally asked a stall owner what all the fuss was about when she was done with collecting. He looked at her in surprise.

"Have you not heard? All of the stores and stalls are selling all items for half the cost to celebrate. Rumor has it that a noble's in love. Apparently she's very high up." The man informed her.

Sparrow said a quick thanks as she departed with a scowl, her mood already turning. How was she going to find Reaver in such a crowd? It was all out madness in the city. Regular townsfolk ran about from shop to shop, trying to buy the half priced items before those with bags upon bags of coin could clean out the stores.

She rolled her eyes as she walked into the inn. Why would they set their prices so low just for some ditsy noble? She was in love, not getting married! Sparrow shrugged it off as she headed for the bar.

"Room please." She said simply then set down ten gold.

The barkeeper nodded towards an upstairs room. She thanked him and walked up the stairs. She entered her room and plopped down heavily on her bed. Holding her head in her hands she let out a sigh. Sparrow was tired and she didn't want to go looking Reaver. She flung herself across the bed with a dramatic groan. A nap would be wonderful right now but she knew that if she closed her eyes, even for a second, she probably wouldn't wake up tell it was well past midnight. It would be even harder for her to try to find Reaver at night. He would most likely be sleeping with any number of women, maybe even a man or two just to shake things up.

Sparrow rose from the soft bed ruefully. She forced herself to leave the room. The balcony creaked in protest as she rested her arms on it and leaned forward. Her eyes scanned the inn. She focused on a form hunched over in a chair near the far corner. Sparrow made her way downstairs with a half smile.

She sat herself down in the chair across from Reaver. He looked up from his half finished bottle of wine.

"I suspect you're the cause of all this." Sparrow said and gestured out the door.

Reaver snorted and muttered, "One night stands just aren't what they used to be. I should just kill the poor harlot."

"You poor bastard" Sparrow laughed.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Where was the yelling, the threats, the inevitable bar brawl? Reaver leaned back in his chair. And cursing? She obviously wasn't in her 'sweet little girl' mood. Whatever she was planning, it didn't involve trying to kill him, at least not yet.

Sparrow sized him up. She could tell he was trying to figure out what she was up to. Frankly, she didn't know what she was doing. When she walked up, she had planned to ask him for her possessions, thinking that he had proved whatever point he felt he had to make and he would just hand over her things. But when she sat down, she noticed for the first time how handsome Reaver really was. It was odd for Sparrow to come to that conclusion, especially after he stole from her, so she shook it off and glared at him.

"Give back everything you stole."

Reaver didn't seem the least bit surprised at the sudden change in subject. He smiled darkly as he leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Now why would I do that? You have such interesting finds, lots of gold, rare trinkets, and, my favorite piece, a journal."

Sparrow paled when she realized that he had in fact taken her journal, something she had completely forgotten about. She wrote down everything in that damn book, _everything_! It had things that were so personal, she would die if anyone read it, and now someone had. And that someone was Reaver. Of all the people in Albion it had to be the deviant.

Reaver laughed when he saw her face change so suddenly. He had read the diary from cover to cover, practically memorizing the words on every page. Now he planned to dangle this over her head tell he got what he wanted.

"Give it back," Sparrow hissed.

"Oh but it's such a riveting read. I'm sure a fair amount of book collectors would love to add the journal of the legendary Hero of the Tattered Spire to said collection."

Sparrow pinched the bridge of her nose to fight back a pulsing headache that was well on its way.

"What do you want, _Reaver_?" she spat out his name as if it were poison.

He only laughed at her anger and frustration. Reaver was a man with many needs and Sparrow was a girl who could quite possibly fulfill some of those 'needs'.

"I want you to have a drink with me." Reaver had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sparrow glared at him. "You know I don't drink alcohol."

"And you know that I have something very dear to you. Honestly if we're just going to sit here and state facts, I should probably just go." Reaver started to get up.

"No, no….I'll have a drink. One drink, you hear me?" she growled.

_What harm could one drink really do?_ she thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the long wait, I've been pretty douchey to you guys. Sad face. I can't promise I'll be updating a lot, but I will finish this story. Thanks for all the reviews and favorites! I always hope for more, but I'm still pretty happy with you people who have reviewed. If I could I would give you a hug. **

**For the non-PM readers,**

**Anm: Thanks, I'm glad your enjoying it! I'll try to keep my sense of humor going throughout the story.**

**Angelinne: Haha, thanks. I will keep writing until my dying breath! I may just be lazy...**

Sparrow slowly cracked an eyelid to the harsh sunlight that filtered through the slats of the shutters. Her head felt as though it had been split in two with an ax and her thoughts came in a slurred chain. She let out a groan as she rolled of the bed. Well, she tried to roll out of the bed. It was rather difficult seeing as it was cracked down the middle. _What the hell happened?_ She rubbed her temples. The last thing she recalled was laughing at something as she downed a bottle of ale. Her fifth bottle, if she remembered correctly.

She managed to stumble to her feet and fell against the small wardrobe that sat, in her hung-over opinion, sat to close to the bed. With a groan, she opened it slowly and proceeded to vomit inside of it. She spat the bile out of her mouth. What a perfect start to the day.

A few pairs of clothes hung inside, and only one of them had been spared of her stomach's contents. She pulled out the tunic and breeches. As she begun to pull the breeches on a wave of dizziness crashed into her. The floor rose up and she fell on her face, her breeches half way on.

Sparrow lay like that for a few moments. The tattered shred that had once been her dignity had vanished the second she got a face full of floorboard. What had become of her? She used to love waking up in the morning, listening to the birds chirp and watching the sun rise above the buildings and trees of Bowerstone. Now she wanted to shoot every last damned bird in Albion. Amazing what a few bottles of beer could do to a girl.

Minutes, or maybe hours, ticked by as Sparrow struggled to get to her feet. Self pity threatened to bring tears to her eyes. It would be so easy to curl up on the floor and feel sorry for herself for a good day or so. Then again, it might not get rid of the pounding headache that brought curses to her lips. She finally pushed herself off the floor and put her clothes on, much easier said than done.

"You don't look so good, Madame Sparrow," the innkeeper said with concern in his voice.

"No shit." Sparrow growled in reply.

The innkeeper was taken aback by her tone and language and decided to keep his mouth shut. Sparrow ordered water with her breakfast and slunk her way to the darkest corner of the room. She didn't notice that someone had followed her, and didn't look up when said person sat down at her table. Reaver chuckled and sipped his beer loudly. This prompted Sparrow to raise her head off of her arm and glare at him.

"You bastard." Sparrow hissed.

Reaver laughed loudly and set his beer down. Sparrow wondered how he can drink it this early in the morning, let alone after a night of drinking.

"You certainly weren't saying that last night."

Sparrow narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing. Her memories were sketchy at best, but she remembered enough to know that all of the ale drinking had made her judgment cloudy, to put it lightly. This morning wasn't the first time she had ended up face down without her pants on.

The server girl arrived then, Sparrows breakfast in one hand and her drink in the other. Her timing couldn't have been better. The girl could taste the malice rolling off of the white-haired hero and immediately felt awkward. She pardoned herself quickly and fled. Reaver watched after her, her hips swaying, and he shook his head. The young ones always did have a tendency to catch his eye.

"Pervert."

Reaver turned his head and studied Sparrow.

"Well aren't you just a ball of sunshine this morning. I personally feel wonderful." Reaver smiled wolfishly.

"Maybe because you didn't sleep with a harlot for once," she retorted.

Sparrow dug into her breakfast, creamy meat stew, with the appetite of a troll. The only thing she had to eat last night was... well, best leave some details out. The stew was delicious, and she only stopped her eating to breathe or to drink from her water. When she was done, she stood abruptly and looked down at Reaver, who stared innocently up at her and drunk his ale.

"I'll return for my things later, I'm leaving for now. I want to be alone and swear to the _gods _if you follow me I will not hesitate to cut that stupid smirk off your face." And with that, Sparrow more or less stumbled out of The Cow & Corset.

**I'm actually proud of this chapter. A little short but I felt awkward writing dialogue between Sparrow and Reaver. I'm going to put an alarm on my iPod to go off every Monday at 3 in the morning so I'll know to update soon. The creativity dry spell I've been in is wearing off, so I'll start typing like crazy!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for the favorites! This chapter just didn't want to be written. Just a heads up, when I finish this story I'm going to be editing previous chapters. They kinda make me cringe whenever I read them. Anywho, reviews are always appreciated (thank you autocorrect, I have no idea how to spell that without you!). Also helpful advice for writing is welcomed, I hope to get better. **

Even though the clean breeze that ran through Bowerstone cleared her head, Sparrow still felt the headache pound at her skull. The market stalls had cleared since yesterday leaving only the practically sold out stalls to stand near empty. Sparrow's heart lifted at the sight; she didn't particularly want to deal with people right now.

The alchemists shop beckoned to her from its private little corner. _There could be something for a hangover, after all this is Bowerstone, _Sparrow thought as she drifted over to it. She hesitated at the steps leading to the door. This was the first time she would be asking for a hangover potion, hopefully the last, and she was nervous about asking for it. Everyone knew how she had never drunk a drop of alcohol in her life. Did she really want to ruin it by practically announcing her hangover to the world? The storeowner would tell every soul that walked through his door about how the famous Hero of Bowerstone had bought a hangover potion, and from _his _store no less.

Sparrow snorted; like she was going to throw her life away that quickly. No, not a living soul (Reaver didn't have a soul so he didn't count) knew about the drinking. Reaver had ordered the drinks, the barkeeper had minded his own business, the bar had been empty that night. Mistake or not, last night was in the past and no one had to know about it. Sparrow shoved the memory far away to the darkest, coldest part of her mind.

Her strides grew lighter and more carefree as she strode toward the bridge. The cold breeze blowing off the river would help her headache. Sure enough, her headache dissipated soon after she leaned over the bridge. There was nothing quite like a good river breeze to put ones mind at ease.

The cold from the stones under her arms seeped through her sleeves. Birds swooped down and skimmed the river with happy chirps. Stall owners cried out their prices to the few who walked the market. The sun warmed the backs of all who stood in its reach. Fish leaped out of the water and splashed down in a spray of water. This was a different type of bliss. This wasn't like waking in the forest to the music of morning. This wasn't sitting on a wooden dock in the misty twilight with feet dangling just above the waters surface. This was just as peaceful, it was just...different. Sparrow didn't bother trying to put her finger on the feeling; she just let her mind wonder and enjoyed the moment.

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

Sparrow opened her eyes. She hadn't even realized they had closed. She turned her head to look at the man who had asked the question. He had soft green eyes and shaggy brown hair. There was lazy smile on his face as he looked out on the river.

"I suppose." Sparrow eyes the man curiously.

"First time to see the river from the bridge. Are you new to Bowerstone?" The man asked when he turned to look at Sparrow. The man had a strange accent, one Sparrow couldn't place. She had never heard it before.

"I actually lived here tell I was eight," realizing that the man probably felt a little sheepish at being in the imposing city she added, "Although it never grows old."

He nodded absentmindedly.

Sparrow asked, "Where are you from? I don't think we've ever met."

"Not from Albion if that's what you mean. I'm from down south. Ever heard of Aurora?" At the shake of Sparrow's head he shrugged and said, "It's much drier than this land with sand instead of grass. We have more clay buildings not stone."

Sparrow's eyes widened. Aurora, a distant land of sand and clay, so much different from Albion. Naturally, she wanted to hear more about it. Who wouldn't?

"What's your name?" Sparrow asked.

"Antero and yours would be...?"

"Sparrow." They exchanged a quick handshake. His grip was firm but warm. Her sister had once said that you could tell a lot about a man in his handshake. Sparrow felt a warrior's hand, calloused from sword hilt. It told of a man who was strong but friendly, dangerous but pleasant. She liked his handshake and could only wonder what hers was like.

"If you don't mind, I'd love to hear all about 'Aurora'." Antero looked surprised but nodded.

"I have many a tale. Then maybe you could tell me about Albion." They both smiled.

"Deal."

The two looked each other over good. Sparrow saw exactly what their handshake had told her. Antero saw a beautiful woman who was sweet and loving. He didn't miss the deadly creature that stalked just underneath her skin, ready to pounce. Sparrow grinned at him and took his arm.

"Come on, I have the perfect place to talk."

**Is it just me or is my dialogue too short and awkward and the story moving to fast? I feel like it is... Oh well, review please and I'm already working on the next chapter, I just wanted to get this one up before I put it off any longer. Happy (very late) Holidays and have a freakin awesome New Years. I will be sitting on my couch, most likely asleep or I'll just barely miss the ball drop :3**


	8. Chapter 8

**I had fun writing this chapter. I was torn where they should be talking but I eventually decided I would rather just pick a random spot than spend half the day trying to decide where. Keep in mind that Aurora was plagued by the Crawlers a year or two before Fable 3, so I'm writing it like they don't exist because I'm fairly sure that they haven't attacked Aurora yet. And a special thanks to Guest, I read their review and it got me into motion and I finally decided to finish this chapter. To bad they don't have an account (P.S. I put your reviews as my lockscreen to make me happy). Remember your three R's; Read, Review, and Rate (although there's no rating system...I guess rate in your head) **

"Where to begin my story?" Antero muttered, mostly to himself. He gazed across the tree tops. Sparrow shifted and dangled her legs off the city wall. It had taken awhile to convince Antero that it was one of the most scenic views and it was worth the climb. He was hesitant but when he saw her clamber up there, he had decided to give it a try. It was fairly simple. All he had to do was persuade the general goods store owner to let him climb onto his roof for a minute or two. He went the same way Sparrow had went; up the stairs, out the window, onto the roof, and, with a good running start, run up the city wall. Sparrow had said it was the best store to use for this particular task, it being so close to the wall and all.

Once they had both settled down onto the wall, Antero had found that Sparrow was right; it had the best view in all of Bowerstone Market. From up here he could see miles of trees stretching out beyond him with Bower Lake a blue blob in the distance. Giant, puff clouds lazily floated above their heads in the turquoise sky. The sounds of the market lay underneath them, gently bubbling up the wall. Song birds sang with all their hearts and added a layer to the city noise.

"I suppose I could start with the grand City of Aurora." Antero said after a moment of pause. Sparrow leaned forward at the name. _Grand_ City of Aurora? What made it so grand?

"I was born and raised in a small village a few miles from the city; it had always been a big wonder that my father would always talk about when I was growing up. He and a few other men would sell livestock and crops there, that's how we made gold. My dad would always talk about taking me with him one day when I was older, told me that when I had become a man he would take me. See, when a boy from our village turned sixteen we would have a celebration. Sixteen was the age one became a man.

"The father would buy his son a sword and pass down his own. The one that got passed down would become a family heirloom of sorts. It was only to be used once when you went out on your journey to become a man. Becoming a man isn't just a happy celebration with a feast and flowing wine. Before you can eat or dance or join in the festivities you have to walk the sands with the family sword. You have to slay a Sand Fury before you can truly be a man." Antero shuddered even though the air was warm. Sparrow noticed and asked curiously, "What's a Sand Fury?"

Antero growled, "Sand Furies are a blight to the land of Aurora. They kill our livestock and steal our crops and raid our villages. They may be female, but they show no mercy and they receive no mercy. They are the finest swordsmen around. I've seen a group of armed men killed by a single Sand Fury."

"Then how did _you_ kill one, a lonesome man with only a sword?" Sparrow had a disbelieving smirk on her face.

"I didn't." Antero's words were so soft and pained that the smirk fell right off Sparrow's face.

"I wasn't even two miles from my village when it attacked me, rose right out of the sand like a damned snake. If I had my sword sheathed I would have been dead. I blocked it's blow just in time to keep my head from rolling around in the sand. It was then when I realized I was going to die. I had been to lazy all the previous years to train for that moment properly. Sure, I knew how to block and how to strike but I didn't know how to dance with my blade. I was to stiff. It was maybe thirty seconds in before it cut me from chest to hip.

"I fell to the ground and the thing was raising it's blade to finish me off when an arrow came from nowhere. It lodged itself into her neck, right in the spine. It was dead before it hit the ground. The man who did it was traveling by when he heard our fight. He got there just as it struck me. Eorn was his name. A great warrior and he soon became a second father to me. He carried me all the way back to our village, telling my father how I had barely managed to kill the Sand Fury.

"I healed for a week, staying in bed the whole time. Eorn lingered by my bed. Whenever I would come to he would tell me of his adventures and ask me pointless questions about myself. In that week I gained a friend.

"After I was on my feet he traveled with my father back to the city. I was permitted to go this time," Antero smiled at the memory.

"You never forget the first time you see the City of Aurora. It is _massive._ Towers climbing high into the sky, clay houses stacked one on top of the other, wide streets filled with makeshift stalls. The castle is large as life sitting back beyond the vendor's cries. The shops are big and airy. I remember a well sitting in a square. It was several feet wide and deeper than the earth. The water from it tasted so crisp and fresh, it was like mist on your tongue." Sparrow closed her eyes as Antero painted the picture of Aurora. She could feel it's heavy sun, the sand under her feet, the cold water rolling down her throat as she listened to the city burst with life. She lay back.

Antero decided to visit the realm himself and closed his eyes while muttering, "Colorful birds would swoop down from the sky. All sorts of shades; seashell pink and ocean blue, forest green and rose red, violet and sunset orange. Some had several colors. They would try to steal food from the little children that ran the roads. How could you blame them? You could smell the food before you entered the city. Filleted fish would sit in the shade. Imported chicken would twirl on a spit above a roaring fire next to baking hot cakes. Lizard pot pie could be seen from the streets, it's crust slowing rising in the open oven.

"Friendly chatter would fill your ears as vendors and customers would chat about everything under the sun. Children danced around your legs and stray dogs would chase after them with wagging tails and happy barks. Mothers would carry their babes in a weed woven basket thrown over their backs and tied securely around the chest. The occasional dockworker would pass you by with a greeting on his lips and boxes of goods in his arms." They both sighed in bliss.

"I wish I could visit Aurora." Sparrow said sleepily.

"It's a wonderful city. Better than I describe." Antero replied, "Now tell me about Albion."

Sparrow turned her head to look at Antero. She didn't know where to start, maybe Bowerstone?

"Well, Bowerstone is the biggest city in Albion. There's four parts to Bowerstone; Bowerstone Market, Old Town, Bowerstone Cemetery, and Fairfax Gardens where Castle Fairfax sits," saying the name still sent a pang through Sparrow, "Bowerstone Market is mostly, well a market. If you go down the south street you get only houses. West takes you to a few shops with houses further back, same goes for the north street. The square has the Cow and Corset, an inn, a blacksmith, an alchemist, a carpenter, and a bookshop. There is a jeweler stand and a fruit and vegetable stand. On the bridge you have a meat seller, a fish seller, and a drink stall. Just under us is the general goods store and the Coach House. Old Town is mostly houses with the exception of some stalls. I doubt I need to tell you about the cemetery. Fairfax Gardens is a huge garden with flowers and trees everywhere." Sparrow looked down at her dangling feet.

"What about the castle?" Antero asked.

"It's big, it's made of stone, and it sits in the garden." Sparrow said curtly. Antero didn't push the matter.

"How about the rest of Albion?"

"Albion is a beautiful land. Forest mostly, with thick oaks big enough that if you and I hugged the tree, we wouldn't touch hands. The leaves are wide and shady; the creeks that run through the forest are cool and fresh. The grass is soft enough you could mistake it for goose down. Bower Lake is a sight to see. Water so blue and silky you'd wish you were a fish. It's clear enough to see down to the bottom."

Antero asked, "Are there any other cities besides Bowerstone?"

"Bloodstone, Oakfield, and I guess you could count Westcliff." Sparrow wrinkled her nose at the thought of Bloodstone. Antero noticed.

"Bloodstone? What's wrong with Bloodstone?"

Sparrow sighed up at the clouds before answering, "Well, it's not what you would call I sight to see. Unless you like hookers, then you get your fill pretty fast," Sparrow smirked when she heard Antero's snort and continued, "The houses are too close together and too small, the people are lawless and not to mention hateful, it's usually dreary weather year round, and Wraithmarsh is slowly sucking the life out of the town. Sound like a place you want to visit?"

"Maybe not, if I knew what Wraithmarsh is."

She had forgotten that Antero didn't know anything about Albion. It felt weird telling of things she hardly gave a second thought to. Everyone knew what Wraithmarsh was. Everyone knew Bloodstone, everyone knew the land and the people and the tales that flowed through the heads of the young children. Sparrow had never known anyone that had lived outside of Albion. She had always thought that Albion was all there was. Albion was her whole world, how could she ever tell all that lay inside of it to a stranger?

"Wraithmarsh is a swamp where Oakvale used to be. Oakvale was a small village where the Hero of Oakvale grew up." Sparrow sighed realizing how much explaining she was going to do, "The Hero of Oakvale was the master of the 'hero traits'. He saved Albion a few hundred years back from Jack of Blades." Sparrow bit her lip and didn't mention that they were related.

"Anyways, Oakvale was destroyed twice, but the second time was the last. There was a boy who feared death and made a deal with the shadows to become immortal. The village served as a sacrifice. Everyone, but the boy, was killed and the town and surrounding woodlands became a place of evil, turning into a swamp. It cuts Bloodstone off from the rest of Albion."

A spark inside Antero's eyes set off a wildfire of interest when he heard the underlying tales of the story of Wraithmarsh. The Hero of Oakvale? Jack of Blades? And most of all, the boy who killed a whole town to live forever. Already Albion was sounding more and more enticing. Was there another hero with "hero traits"? When he voiced this question Sparrow's face turned red.

"Um, well, I- I've heard of one. A rumor really, no one knows who it is. I guess uh it's not definite." Sparrow looked down at her feet, hoping her hair blocked the creeping blush that was coloring her face.

"Hmmm," Antero, deep in thought, barely noticed Sparrow's obvious lie.

"If you want to do research you can always head over to the library," Sparrow hesitated before blurting, "I'll go with you, I need to return some books and maybe get some more. I also need to get rent, should probably pay late fees. I could show you how to get there, it's not far, and you might get lost or go in the wrong building-" The look Antero gave her stopped her rambling.

"That is, if you want me to go." Suddenly the stone wall became very interesting. Had it always been that color? Did they sand down the stones? She glanced up when Antero laughed.

"I'd love for you to escort me. Getting lost can be a bitch." Sparrow giggled for the first time in what felt like years.

**I don't know about you, but I feel like Antero's name is weird... I don't know maybe it's just me being me. Hope you liked it, I know I loved writing, although I still feel like the dialogue is kinda awkward, of course I'm an awkward person. Sorry if the history is a little off. Don't forget to review, it'll make me happy to wake up on the 28****th**** with reviews (they make excellent birthday presents *wink wink elbow to the ribs*)**


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